


like you hit me with lightning

by oopshidaisy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Found Family, M/M, One-sided rivals to lovers, Rescue Missions, Rivals to Lovers, Telepathy, han just thinks luke is cute, of course there's found family it's a star trek fic, only luke thinks they're rivals, the inherent eroticism of telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopshidaisy/pseuds/oopshidaisy
Summary: Luke Skywalker thought that joining Starfleet and setting off on a mission to explore the known reaches of the universe would be fun. He forgot to account for Han Solo.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Comments: 27
Kudos: 83





	1. Prologue - And the Children Shall Lead

**Author's Note:**

> i love the stars and the characters in the star wars but not the wars. a star trek au seemed like the natural solution.
> 
> title is from 'starry eyed' by ellie goulding. chapter titles will all be episode titles from the star trek original series

“He’s a _criminal_ ,” Luke hissed. Behind him, the turbolift doors slid shut.

Leia gave him a withering look. They were due to leave the spaceport in half an hour, and she clearly thought she had more important things to do. Luke stood his ground.

“He’s a good pilot,” Leia said.

“So am I.”

“Not of a ship of this size,” Leia reminded him, proving once and for all that sharing a room with her at the Academy had been a colossal mistake. “Solo is experienced with large and small vessels alike, and—”

“If Starfleet was all about experience you wouldn’t be captain,” Luke cut in, voice rising in frustration.

“Is this about wanting command of your own ship?” Leia asked. The doors opened, and she strode out onto the engineering deck, not even looking back to check he was following. A few paces behind her, Luke scowled at the twist of her low bun. “Because if you can’t deal with five years under my captaincy, now’s your only chance to back out.”

“I’ve never wanted that. I _want_ to be the helmsman.”

“You’re better suited to navigation on this ship and you know it.”

“You—”

“And before you start on the first officer appointment,” Leia said, ducking under a low-hanging pipe that was issuing steam in an alarming shade of orange, “I can’t be accused of favoritism when I’m the youngest captain in the ‘fleet. Solo may be an – unorthodox choice, but he’ll be a great second-in-command.”

“You hated him when you first met him,” Luke said mulishly.

The roles had been reversed back when Han had first swept into the Academy, embroiled in some kind of deal to atone for smuggling on Romulus. He’d been braggadocios from the start, insisting that he’d have command of his own ship in record time, telling endless stories about his adventures across the galaxy. And he’d flirted with Leia incessantly from the moment he’d seen her, right up until she’d threatened to do severe damage to his reproductive system. Somehow, the prospect of violence had improved their relationship considerably.

Luke, for his part, had gotten used to Han’s presence – first in classes and around campus, then in his and Leia’s room, where he pointedly ‘behaved himself’ by never going within two feet of Leia’s bed, although he’d never shown any such qualms about Luke’s. It hadn’t seemed as though Han regarded Luke as anything more than a kid, but Luke didn’t really mind the patronizing nicknames or the laissez-faire way Han ignored personal space.

And then Luke had seen Han fly.

He could admit to the jealousy. After all, he’d been rather enjoying his status as the Academy’s most promising pilot, even if everyone could tell he was better in shuttlepods and fighters than as part of a crew. But Han – Han could fly anything, _had_ flown anything if his stories were to be believed (Luke tried not to believe).

Leia looked back at him, something wry and too-knowing in her expression. She’d felt that outburst of emotion, he realized, even with her shields up. He felt heat spread across his cheeks but retained eye contact, hands held carefully behind his back.

“You act as though your animosity with him is mutual,” she said. “We both know that it isn’t.”

Luke felt his shoulders tense. “He’s an asshole,” he muttered, but he knew that there was nothing else he could say. He’d never been able to change Leia’s mind when it was set on something – he should have known better than to even attempt it.

With the purple sludge of pity radiating from her, Leia tapped his wrist with two fingers, a gesture of physical comfort so quick that Luke could only catch a flash of her thoughts.

_You’ll be fine._

Luke doubted it, but instead of arguing the point he turned and walked away.

*

Han was waiting outside his room, propped casually against the wall with the slouch of someone who knew exactly how cool they looked. Luke glared at him as he approached.

“You’re not in uniform,” he said.

Han glanced down at the shirt he was wearing and affected shock. “That I’m not,” he agreed, pushing off the wall to hover close to Luke, close enough that Luke could feel the prickly sensation of half-heard thoughts. He wasn’t as good as Leia at shielding – it was part of the reason, he knew, that she would make a better captain than him. “I’ve still got plenty of time to change.”

“No, you don’t,” Luke said. “We’re setting off in twenty.”

“So you came here to…what? Take a power nap? Thought you’d be stuck to your sister’s side until we got in the air, kid.”

“Yes, well, we had a disagreement,” Luke snapped, trying to step around Han to get into his room. He was stopped by a hand around his forearm, loose but unyielding. At the very least, his sleeve created a barrier between his mind and Han’s, but it wasn’t enough and, before he could even attempt shielding, Luke felt himself get lost in the vibrant orange of Han’s excitement, the swirling grey of impatience and – most surprisingly – a black slash of nervousness.

His eyes flicked up to Han’s, and whatever was in them made Han step back, still blocking the door.

“Sorry,” Han said gruffly. “I forget about the mind thingy.”

That was one thing to Han’s credit – though Luke was loath to admit it. He’d never had the reaction every telepath dreaded, never made the accusations that Luke or Leia were deliberately listening in or invading his privacy. He was as touchy-feely with them as he was with everyone else, even when reminded of Luke’s inability to block. _I’ve got nothing much to hide_ , he’d said with a wink, and Luke had—

Well, he’d liked the way Han’s mind felt. His emotions were colored so brightly that Luke could feel scorched by them, and there was a sort of manic energy to his thought process that was intriguing to listen in on. And there was the fact that he was so much more intelligent than he ever let anyone see, that he was constantly analyzing pretty much everything around him. That he always knew at least three routes of escape.

When Luke didn’t say anything, Han barreled on. “I know it’s a lot, today. Hey, the princess told me you see it in colors. What’d you see just then?”

“Just emotions,” Luke corrected. He gave up on getting past Han as a lost cause and sat down cross-legged on the opposite side of the corridor, focusing on getting his breathing steady. Across from him, Han sat down. “Thoughts are in words and hazy – you could call them pictures, I suppose. But I see emotions as colors. Leia hears them as music. It’s different for everyone, I think.”

“Yeah? You ever actually been to Betazed?”

Luke shook his head.

“The princess planning on taking us there?”

“You’re probably going to have to start calling her Captain,” Luke said.

“Nah, still got fifteen minutes before I gotta start calling her anything.” From the look on Han’s face, Luke could tell the nickname wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. “You good to head to the bridge, kid?”

“It was orange, mostly,” Luke said.

“Orange? What emotion’s that?”

“You don’t know what you’re feeling?”

“Ha,” Han said flatly. “Just pretend I need you to tell me.”

“You’re excited,” Luke said. “And a little scared.”

“That’s a pretty great party trick.” Han smirked at him. “So orange is excited?”

“For you, yes.”

“For _me_?”

“For Leia it’s blue.” Luke shrugged. “Everyone’s got their own way of feeling.”

“Jesus,” Han said. “I thought – you’re only, what, a quarter Betazoid? Guess I thought you’d be worse at the whole—” He gestured at his own head. “—jiggery-pokery.”

Luke hesitated. “As I said, it’s different for everyone. But—” He focused, trying to make his thoughts light and heavy all at once, the way Ben Kenobi had taught him, and directed his next thought directly into Han’s head: _I’m pretty good at the jiggery-pokery._

Han jumped at the intrusion, then let out a peal of laughter.

“Wow,” he said, getting to his feet. “That’s a real trip. But much as I’d love for you to do mind tricks on me all day, I’ve been told I’ve gotta dress for the job I’ve got.”

He gave Luke a jaunty salute and strode a couple of paces down the corridor, to the next room. When he started keying in a password, Luke let out a noise of dismay.

“We’re next to each other?” he said, standing.

Han grinned back at him. “If you hog the bathroom, kid, I’ll be filing a complaint. Or, as your commanding officer, can I just tell you what to do?”

Luke shook his head and started towards the bridge. “I can give you a headache just by thinking about it,” he warned as he passed Han.

“Can you really?” Han asked. Luke didn't so much as pause. But for one reckless moment he lowered his shields, just long enough to hear Han think, _What_ have _I gotten myself into?_


	2. The Empath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke goes on his first mission.

It was reassuring, how quickly they settled into the routine of life on a starship. Within days it became obvious that Leia was born to lead, and by the end of the first week Luke could see that some of the tension had drained out of her shoulders, that there was an intrinsic authority imbued in each word she said. She commanded respect without giving the impression of thinking herself above her crew, and Luke was getting used to the exasperated looks she gave him every time the warm glow of pride he felt overflowed and made it into the heads of every mildly psychic being on the bridge.

Everything – well, almost everything – was perfect.

Luke knew he was performing his duties well, that he was a valued presence on the bridge and that the work they were doing was important. On an intellectual level, he knew he hadn’t joined Starfleet as a thrill-seeker; he genuinely wanted to be part of a humanitarian force that gave him the chance to explore the galaxy.

But – he couldn’t help the bolt of jealousy he felt when Han steered them through an asteroid field, as graceful as if the USS Falcon was a quarter of its actual size. Couldn’t help the jolt of disappointment every time Han got to lead a team planetside and Luke was told to stay put, charting their course for the next destination. 

It was a little messed up to be envious when Han and his team materialized on the transporter, breathless from a firefight, clothing singed from one too many close calls. Luke knew that. He was working on it.

Despite a few altercations, they hadn’t lost a crewmember so far, almost unheard of for a ship of their size. 

Luke couldn’t help but feel as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

*

The first time Leia sent Han and Luke on a mission together, it was for lack of a better option.

“This is for lack of a better option,” she said, across from them in a briefing room. Her fingers were steepled, and her face was set in a frown. “This mission is – it’s off the books. I have clearance from the admiralty, and we’re supposed to be negotiating a trade deal with the Corvellian leaders anyway, but there’s another thing.”

“Which is?” Han asked, slouching in his chair. “Spare us the dramatics, sweetheart.”

“There are prisoners being held below the Emperor’s residence,” Leia said. “Prisoners whose rights are being abused, though Starfleet has never been able to prove it. None of this leaves this room.”

“Of course,” Luke said.

“This is a rescue mission,” Leia said. “A team of seven of us will beam down for trade talks, and – assuming all goes well – you two will sneak away during the celebratory feast.”

“Corvellians love their feasts,” Han muttered.

“Security should be minimal inside the palace,” Leia said. “But – Luke, you know what to do with anyone you encounter.”

“What?” Han asked.

“Corvellians’ minds are particularly susceptible to psychic interference,” Leia explained. “It’s why they’ve long mistrusted Vulcans and Betazoids.”

Han fixed her and Luke with matching pointed looks.

“They’re under the impression that Luke and I are human,” Leia said. “ _Fully_ human, I should say. There was no reason to tell them otherwise. But it should make it easy for you and Luke to infiltrate the prison level.”

“Couldn’t I just set my blaster to stun?” Han asked. “I don’t see how bringing the kid along’s going to help.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “I can make them forget,” he said. “Which could be pretty important to avoid a war between Starfleet and Corvell.”

“Can you make them forget they even had the prisoners in the first place?” Han drawled. “Because they may be dumb, but I don’t think they’re dumb enough not to figure out the correlation between Starfleet showing up and their prisoners going missing.”

“I mean,” Luke said, looking to Leia with questioning eyes. “I could? It’d be difficult to get to everyone, though.”

“If the inmates simply go missing, it puts the Corvellians in a bind,” Leia explained. “They’ve never admitted to having political prisoners at all, much less the rights abuses. There are at least eight different trading partners they’d lose if word got out about what they’ve been doing – besides which, they’ve been on the brink of a war with Tizerne for decades, and—”

“I assume some of the prisoners are Tizernian.”

Leia made a face at the interruption, and Han smirked. He was the only one with any resistance to Leia’s leadership, although Luke noticed that he always ended up doing what she said, no matter the fight he put up beforehand.

“The point is, they won’t retaliate once the prisoners are gone. It’s just a case of getting them out.”

*

It was easier said than done.

“You look nervous, kid,” Han said, arm slung around the back of Luke’s chair. Every so often Han’s position put Luke into brief contact with the crook of his elbow or the point of his knee, sending a shuddering bolt of emotion directly into Luke’s head. He hadn’t been able to parse what it actually was, the jumble of colors, and Han hadn’t felt like elaborating. Not where they could be heard.

And now he was leaning in to keep the words quiet, between them.

“You’re thinking loudly,” Luke said, mildly enough. The buzzing of Han’s thoughts wasn’t, in all honesty, too distracting. It just made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, that was all.

“So let your shields down,” Han replied. “Focus on me. You’re gonna need to stop blocking soon enough anyway.”

Luke flicked his eyes across to catch Han’s gaze, checking whether he was joking.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, although there was nothing in Han’s expression to signify levity.

“Why not?”

Luke glanced around, making sure none of the Corvellian revelers were paying attention. The hall’s lighting was dim and the curious concoction that produced effects similar to drunkenness in their species was flowing. Another hour, and most occupants of the hall would be too drunk to notice a thing.

“No human’s comfortable with that,” Luke said. “Me hearing them.”

“I’ve known telepaths before,” Han said, and his hand drifted to rest millimeters away from the exposed skin at Luke’s neckline. “It’s not as invasive as us humans like to make it sound, is it? You only hear when you’re listening. Otherwise it’s just—” Han made a hand gesture that inadequately conveyed how it felt, the comfort of simply feeling the shapes of the other minds in a room, unobtrusive but undeniably present. Ever since he’d been taught to shield, Luke had longed for that feeling back.

“I can’t promise not to listen, though,” Luke said. “I might hear something.”

“Listen all you like.” And then there it was, the delicate trail of Han’s fingers across the back of his neck. Skin on skin. Luke’s shields slipped away as though they were as insubstantial as water. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Luke couldn’t help the small, choked noise he made at the way Han’s mind slotted into place, like a warm light behind Luke’s eyes.

“And this’ll help with the mission, right?” Han must have been able to feel the psychic contact, albeit less strongly than Luke, but he didn’t stop the sweep of his fingers back and forth.

 _You don’t have to say it out loud_ , Luke thought pointedly. _Wait – do you know how to project?_

 _I just_ said _I’ve known telepaths_ , came Han’s response, and Luke almost laughed aloud at how disgruntled it sounded.

They were waiting on a signal from Leia, who sat at the dais in the center of the hall in the traditional ceremonial robes of the Corvellians. Although she was a little swamped by the sheer size of the garment, her head was raised tall and she appeared to be speaking amicably with the Corvellians’ ambassador to the ‘fleet.

Han took a swig from his cup, making a face at the taste.

“That won’t get you drunk,” Luke pointed out. The substance was safe for human ingestion, but the taste wasn’t agreeable and the consistency was, for lack of a better term, gross.

“Not trying to get drunk,” Han murmured. His mind followed with, _The guards on the opposite wall haven’t stopped giving us the stink-eye since we sat down. I’m trying to show that I’m participating in their culture._

Luke nodded.

 _And you think I’d try to get drunk in the middle of a rescue mission?_ He sounded more amused than offended, and his knee knocked against Luke’s again under the table.

 _I don’t know_ what _you’d do_ , Luke shot back.

He thought Han might take offense, but there was nothing but warm amusement in the tenor of his thoughts. They both kept their eyes on the guards, whose heads were bowed together.

 _Can you hear anything from them?_ Han thought.

Luke shook his head. _Too many people in the room. It’s harder to focus on individuals._

Part of him felt embarrassed about the limitation on his ability; had he been brought up in the Betazoid tradition, rather than on earth, he might have been able to glide easily through each mind in a room at his leisure. There was no way to know. The first Betazoid he’d ever met had been Ben Kenobi, and by then Luke’s adoptive family and teachers had all tried to drill blocking and shielding into him and Leia above all else. It made him feel stunted, even as he understood why they’d tried to emphasize humans’ love of privacy.

 _Too bad_ , Han thought. _Guess we’ll just have to wait ‘til we’re allowed to get closer_.

*

When the signal came – a slide of Leia’s fingers across her Starfleet badge coupled with a nudge of her mind against Luke’s – Han launched into action. He leaned yet closer, grinning, and knocked his drink onto Luke, allowing the metal cup to clatter loudly to the floor. The liquid was uncomfortably viscous, seeping through the fabric of Luke’s shirt.

“Oh, shit,” Han said, at a volume that drew the eyes of all the guards and guests on their side of the hall. “Sorry, man, let’s get you cleaned up…”

He pulled Luke to his feet and walked confidently up to the guard at the south-west door, smiling guilelessly.

“Look, I gotta go get my friend here cleaned up,” he said. The guard’s face was stony, and the sharp protrusions covering his limbs did nothing to put Luke at ease. “Is there somewhere we can go find water or a change of clothes.”

The guard gave them a speculative look. Han’s hand was still wrapped loosely around Luke’s wrist, and Luke allowed himself a moment to tune into Han’s thoughts, a calm counterpoint to his own. In any other circumstance, it would have been unnerving to find out that Han’s blithe confidence really wasn’t a front. Right now, Luke could feel his heartbeat slowing back to its normal rate.

“I will take you,” the guard said.

“Great,” said Han.

Despite having been hosted on Corvell for six days, the palace had remained largely off-limits. The officers who had come down from the Falcon had been housed in ostentatious accommodation overlooking the ash beach, and negotiations had taken place in a central sort of town hall, but this was the first Luke had seen of the palace’s interior. Its outer walls had been intimidating enough: sat atop a hill, it cast a mud-red shadow across much of the town below, a hazy glow making its shape and size unclear. Inside was worse. The Corvellians valued darkness above light, and as such the walls, floors and ceilings were all metallic black, with blood red candles lining the walls inside sharp metal cages. There weren’t shadows so much as there were differing degrees of darkness. Inside the hall, surrounded by relatively friendly faces and a higher number of candles, it hadn’t been so disconcerting.

“Nice place you got here,” Han said conversationally. They walked around a corner, empty but for them and several twisting flights of steps. Han let go of Luke’s arm.

Between one blink and the next, the guard was crumpled on the floor. Luke sucked in a shocked breath, rearing automatically back.

“You do that, or did he just spontaneously have a seizure?” Han asked. He still looked unaffected, propping his elbow against the stairs’ handrail to look down at the body appraisingly.

“He…should just be asleep,” Luke said, but he couldn’t keep the doubt from his voice. It had been absurdly easy to manipulate the guard’s mind, so easy that he felt a great deal of sympathy for the Corvellians’ resistance to dealing with his species. He knelt down and gingerly pressed a finger against the rough skin of the guard’s forearm, careful to avoid the spikes. Closing his eyes, he tried to filter out the irrelevant: the dream the guard was currently having, about the large, flesh-hungry fish who populated Corvell’s oceans; the short-term memory of being bored during the feast, suspicious of the humans, hungry and uncomfortable; the brief and splitting pain he’d felt when Luke had wrenched through his mind to knock him out.

When he resurfaced, Han was closer, crouched beside him.

“Okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Luke said. “Won’t remember a thing from tonight, either. And I know where to go.”

*

They only encountered a few more guards on their way down, and all were equally easy to knock out and memory wipe, though Luke started to feel the strain on his own mind after the third. The cells were five levels below ground, behind a lot of doors with locks that Han simply blasted out of their way, dismissing Luke’s offer to compel one of the guards to do it.

“You’d only start whining about how unethical it is and how you hope you haven’t done anything permanent to the people who are illegally holding prisoners a mile underground,” Han said, which was true and – since Luke had started asking Han to catch his victims before they could fall to the ground – indisputable. Han, recognizing his silence for the confirmation it was, grinned and shot a hole into another door.

“How did you even sneak that in here?” Luke asked. “There were supposed to be no weapons.”

“Seemed a little unfair when the Corvellians are naturally about five times stronger than humans and have giant fuck-off spikes all along their limbs, so I decided to level the playing field,” Han winked, tucking the blaster back into his waistband. “I have my ways.”

“Must have come in handy on Romulus,” Luke said.

Han gave him a sideways look. “It did, actually. How much further?”

“Just down these steps.”

Down in the bowels of the palace, the walls were dark stone rather than sleek black, not that it made much difference to the overall terrifying feel of the place. It was a struggle to get down the stairs without falling; the stone was uneven beneath their feet and each step was too tall. Luke nearly slipped, only saved from the fall by Han catching his elbow.

“If it’s like this _outside_ the cells…” Han said, voice grim.

Luke just nodded, keeping his hand on the wall for balance.

The door at the bottom of the steps was white, with a large X painted on its center. The difference was startling, and Luke reached out to touch it – there was an almost dusty consistency to the door, unlike any paint he’d ever felt before.

“That’s one hell of a lock,” Han muttered, inclining his head.

Luke scanned the door, and realized. “The X?”

“Right. These types are meant to be impenetrable without a key. Never thought I’d see one in this part of the galaxy. Are you sure these guys aren’t dealing with Klingons?”

“Not now I’m not.”

“Is someone there?” came a voice from the other side of the door.

It sounded young.

“Hello,” Luke said. His voice was a little shaky. “We’re here to help. Can you tell me how many people are in there with you?”

“There’s six of us,” said the boy. “Were ten, but four got in trouble. They’re gone now.”

 _What do we do?_ Luke thought, a little frantically, in Han’s general direction.

 _Is it too late to find a guard to do your bidding?_ came the unhelpful response.

Luke closed his eyes, trying to recall anything he’d seen in the minds of the guards stationed closest to the prison. An icy chill swept through him.

“The key is kept in the Emperor’s private quarters,” he said. “It can only be retrieved with his permission. The guard two floors up was thinking about how annoying it is. He wanted to be able to go into the cells and…and…”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Han said, grabbing Luke’s hand. “Focus back on me, kid. You did good. We’ll just have to infiltrate the Emperor’s bedroom. Piece of cake.”

“This isn’t a very good rescue,” said the kid on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, well, we’re doing our best,” Han responded. “Is there an adult we can talk to?”

“They’re all asleep.”

“Wake them up,” Han said. “Get them ready to be rescued. We’ll be back.”

*

“You know where the Emperor’s quarters are, then?” Han asked once they were out of the prisoners’ earshot.

“All I know is that they’re high up,” Luke said. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the memory of what had been in that guard’s mind keeps his stomach turning. “We have to help them, Han. We need to get them out.”

“And we will,” Han said. “Even if not for the torture, I know better than to let your sister down. So let’s go high.”

“Quickly,” Luke said. “We don’t know when they’ll notice that we’ve gone missing.”

“You worry too much,” Han muttered.

*

By the time they reached the ground level again, Luke was out of breath and dizzy. He hadn’t eaten anything during the feast, too nervous and distracted, and his brain felt fried from the sheer number of people he’d had to knock out and use for information.

“Whoa, hey,” Han said. “You look like you’re about to fall down.”

“I’m fine,” Luke gritted out. There were black spots in his vision. “Let’s just go.”

“What’s gonna help?”

“It’s just…” Luke sighed and started walking again, hoping that Han would follow. “My psychic abilities are like a muscle. It’s bad if I don’t use them at all, and it hurts when I use them too much. That’s all.”

“And if we see another guard?”

“I’ll do what I have to,” Luke said. “I can deal with a little pain.”

“Christ,” Han said.

They climbed the rest of the stairs in silence, Han even managing to hold his tongue at the multitude of times Luke stumbled.

The palace was, for the most part, empty. They had to duck out of view a few times to stay out of view of lone wanderers, but the majority of the palace’s occupants did seem to be at the feast. Luke didn’t know how long it would last, but for now they were safe enough.

On what must have been the tenth floor aboveground, Luke sifted through the thoughts of a passing woman bedecked in similar robes to the ones Leia had been gifted with. She was the youngest of Emperor Maul’s children, and although her train of thought was predominantly frustration about the restrictions her father placed on her lifestyle, he managed to draw out the location of his quarters.

 _Two more floors up,_ he thought, touching the back of Han’s wrist. _There are two guards on duty at all times. They’ll know where the key is._

 _Your mind sounds like shit_ , Han thought back. _I don’t even know_ how, _but are you sure you’ll be able to—_

Luke pulled his hand back before Han could finish, and although their minds were still connected without touch, it was still satisfying for the way Han glowered at him.

*

As soon as they were in sight of the guards, Han stunned them both before Luke could gather the mental energy to do a thing.

“There,” Han said. “That’s half your job done. Now you only have to find out where the key is and make them forget.”

Luke blinked. “Thank you.”

He crouched beside one of the fallen guards and tried to make sense of their recent memories, parsing the rush of information.

“It’s a long piece of…metal, maybe?” Luke murmured. “You place it in the center of the X and turn, and – oh, it’s made of four panels. You’re right, this technology is far beyond anything else the Corvellians use.”

“Good to know, but _where_ is the key kept?” Han said.

“There’s a chest with a secret lining in it,” Luke said. He took his hand away from the guard’s forehead and stood up, blinking away the fuzziness in his vision.

“No, you stay sitting down, I’ll get it,” Han said. “Secret lining in a chest, fucking hell. They really don’t want these prisoners getting out.”

Luke slumped against the wall, closing his eyes. He drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep for the minute it took Han to recover the key, a swirl of painfully bright colors behind his eyelids.

He didn’t hear Han come back, only felt the touch to the back of his hand and the accompanying security of Han’s mind, flush with the victory of having found what they needed.

 _We gotta go, kid_ , he thought, and Luke nodded, letting himself be pulled to his feet with all the grace of a rag doll.

“I hate to say it,” Han murmured, “but you have to think about whatever it is that guard wanted to do to those people down there. And you gotta keep going.”

He was right, but Luke still wrenched his hand away and swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of the violence the guard had so gleefully imagined, the way he’d treated torture like a game to be played and won.

For the rest of the journey back to the prison, Luke was only barely conscious. After the second flight of steps, Han kept a constant grip on his upper arm, supporting at least half of his weight. His mind became shaded with purple so dark it was almost black, the worry so overwhelming that it was all Luke could see every time he blinked.

 _I’ll be fine_ , Luke thought, not even knowing if Han could hear him.

By the time they reached the white door, it was all Luke could do not to simply collapse on the ground; as it was, he simply slid down the wall and trusted Han to tell the prisoners what was going on.

The door parted with a hiss, its four panels retreating into the walls. The space behind them was stark white, so white it hurt to look at for more than a few seconds. Luke’s eyes took a moment to focus, but when they did he saw the people huddled together in the center of the room, a room so small that it would only just fit the six of them lying lengthwise.

“I _told_ you we were being rescued,” said the small one in the front. He was the only child, with unruly black hair and the ghost of impending malnourishment haunting his features. “Took you two long enough. What’s wrong with him?”

“He thinks he has to do everything all by himself no matter the consequences,” Han said. “And we went as fast as we could.”

The five adults were of varying species – all humanoid, but Luke could see an Orion and one with pointed ears who would have been Romulan or Vulcan. Luke couldn’t tell if any were Tizernian. They all looked tired and pallid, but Luke could make out a gold mist of hope around them.

“Okay, kid, I’m gonna need you up and at ‘em for the hard part,” Han said, offering a hand to help Luke up with. “It’s not gonna be a picnic getting you all out of this palace and onto our starship, but I can guarantee we’re going to do our damndest. Any questions?”

*

Luke awoke in his room onboard the Falcon with Han on one side and Leia on the other, and a small child sat on his legs, staring at him.

“Um,” Luke said.

“You passed out and I got the Vulcan to carry you,” Han supplied.

Luke frowned. “Did I make it out of the palace, at least?”

“…Nearly.”

“It was kind of freaky,” the boy said. “Your eyes rolled back and your friend had to catch you. And then we got spotted in the town but the lady said she wouldn’t stop us. And then we took the magic portal to the spaceship. And then—”

“He gets it,” Han interrupted. “Can you run to the mess hall and grab something for Luke to eat?”

“O…kay,” the kid said, and bounced to his feet. “But when I get back I wanna hear all about his cool mind powers.”

As soon as the door hissed shut behind him, Luke turned to Han. “Mind powers?”

“He’s excited about them,” Han shrugged. “Wants to know all his colors.”

“Might as well change my job description to ‘Mood Ring’.” Once, at a party on campus, Luke had made the mistake of sharing the way he perceived emotions to a girl who was both drunk and a fan of vintage Earth artifacts. The comparison had haunted him ever since.

“Not if you’d pass out after five minutes.”

Luke flushed, and managed to raise himself into a sitting position. His head still throbbed, but he felt alert enough. “How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Leia said. She was looking between him and Han with clear amusement, but Luke could feel the remnants of the worry she’d been feeling. “We got away as fast as we could, so we’re in the Delta Quadrant until we’re sure the Corvellians aren’t going to retaliate.”

“Do you think they’re going to?” Luke asked.

The expression that flitted across Leia’s face made her look very young, but it was gone in an instant. “I hope not. And…even if they do, we did the right thing here. It was worth it.”

“It was,” Luke confirmed.

“All six former prisoners are onboard,” Leia said. “There were a few extra rooms, but we’ll have to adjust course to get them back to their homeworlds – or wherever they wish to go.”

“Leia, he’s only just—” Han started.

“No, it’s fine,” Luke said. “Pass me a PADD. Are any of them from Earth?”

Leia sighed. “Only the Vulcan and the child are talking. The rest…not yet.”

“They’re all in medbay for now,” Han added. “Except the kid, obviously. Couldn’t keep him from running around. Doctor Kalonia all but tied him to the bed, but he kept sneaking out from under her nose.”

“Is he alright?”

“Given the circumstances, better than expected. All of them are.”

“Given the circumstances,” Luke said, quiet.

The door slid open again, and the child bounded forward, depositing a tray of food onto Luke’s lap and what smelt like a mug of green tea onto his bedside table. Even with only two days of freedom, the boy seemed to look healthier; there was a warm flush to his cheeks and he was dressed in some kind of makeshift alteration to a Starfleet uniform, the gold of command track.

Luke picked at the greenery on his plate while the boy stole the fries.

“So,” Luke said, “what’s your name?”

“It’s Poe,” the boy said, through his mouthful. “Poe Dameron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah we're really in it (found family) now


End file.
